


Hypotheses

by lngrid



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 13:51:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20259142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lngrid/pseuds/lngrid
Summary: A collection of shorts centered around Sigma and Moira.





	Hypotheses

_‘There's so much I feel that I should say   
_ _But words can wait until some other day’ __\- Sammy Cahn_

Days in, days out. Experiments turning into failures or minor successes.

Every day, new samples to analyze, new equations to discuss, new theories to test.

They start having a routine, as if they were in the R&D department of some prestigious university instead of a terrorist organization. 

They memorize each other’s coffee preferences and get it in turns.

They start working in one lab a few times a week, carefully respecting the space and equipment of the other.

They get to know each other’s reasoning techniques - his eyebrows twitch when he disagrees, she uses a very specific cold tone when she just knows he is babbling nonsense.

They argue, shout at each other, in English, Gaelic, Dutch; sometimes mugs and pens fly and they advise the other one to hand in their doctorates, or even offer to set it on fire themselves. They never disagree in front of the Talon board though - scientists, after all, tend to be thick as thieves in the face of a common opponent.

And there are times when they are out on missions - fighting, getting bruised, almost dying, losing a bit of sanity and humanity all the way.

He sits by her bedside in the infirmary and shows her the newest simulations results. 

She stitches him up and they discuss what to adjust on his armor, his medication.

Then it is back to the lab, and then rinse and repeat. They both know the drill by now, no need to sugarcoat it, to waste time with foolish small talk.

But one day... one day after an unexpectedly violent mission, back in the lab - Siebren has a request.

Three minutes, he says, and then they can continue with work.

She agrees - out of sheer curiosity - to this mystery plan.

He puts on a really old song, from maybe a hundred years ago - a chanson-like, slowly swaying, jazzy tune. Through the modern speakers it still sounds like someone was playing it from an old gramophone.

He gently takes her corrupted right hand in his, holding it close to his body. His other hand he lightly puts on the middle of her back, slowly starting to sway with her in one place in accordance with the music.

Face turned sideways and eyes closed, he has a look of serene longing, she notices. And then he gently, barely touches his cheek to her forehead.

She in turn slowly puts a hand on his back, letting him lead for now. She halfway closes her eyes, all musing thoughts slowly drowned out by the music and the warmth of his body.

The lady sings somewhat bitter-sweetly in the background as the two figures sway along gently to the tune, in their silent confession.


End file.
